


Truth or Dare

by zorilleerrant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Originally Posted on Pillowfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:50:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorilleerrant/pseuds/zorilleerrant
Summary: Sometimes Fred doesn't remember who he is.





	Truth or Dare

No one could tell Fred and George apart. This would have been annoying (heartbreaking, staggering, cruel), except that Fred couldn’t tell them apart either much of the time, which sort of took precedence as an issue. In order to address that, George carefully cultivated a sort of sameness which Fred found grounding – at least if he couldn’t tell who was who, he could tell the sort of things Fred and George _both_ liked, the kind of things they would agree on. And that was enough to get him through to when he found George again. They made it a sort of game.

“Hey,” said Fred-or-George. “Truth or dare?”

And George would step closer, and cast one of a handful of spells, and everyone would assume they were plotting. “Truth,” said George, who knew the game.

Fred-or-George laughed slightly, licked his lips. “Which one am I?”

“Fred,” George said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Fred said.

George wrapped an arm around him. “Where are we?”

Fred looked around. “Hogwarts, obviously. The common room. But.”

“You said truth, Fred,” George reminded him.

Fred shook his head. “Feels like…somewhere else. You remember when we went on the field trip to the ruins? The old magic, the way it replaced your blood? Feels like there.”

George leaned his head in, tipped it against Fred’s, gripped his arm just a little too tight, hard enough to leave an imprint. “Truth.”

Fred sighed and closed his eyes. “Is it the beginning of the day, or the end?”

“The end,” George said. “We’re going down to dinner in twenty minutes, and you’re going to need to drink some water. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” said Fred, and put his hand over George’s, pressing down, counting.

“Did something happen?” George asked.

Fred’s face went blank, and he squinted slightly, and he stared at George. “No. I woke up feeling kind of…you know. And today just. Kept. Keeping on, you know? Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” said George.

Fred looked him right in the eye. “What am I forgetting?”

“Your homework,” George said. “You have that make-up essay due tomorrow. You’re worried about it because you only just got the book. It’s on your pillow. Truth or dare?”

Fred grinned at his brother. “Dare.”

George grinned back. “I dare you to spike the pumpkin juice at dinner.”

And Fred, who had perfected a potion recently that would render every member of the student body unable to pronounce Latin-derived spells for the next 24 hours, went to his room, alone, and found the potion, and got it into the pumpkin juice, and still remembered he needed to be at dinner. When he got to the table, he sat next to George, who always could tell the difference between the two of them right up until the day that he couldn’t, and drank some water.


End file.
